


Issues

by wheredoiship



Category: IT - Stephen King, IT- Movies
Genre: Beverly Is A Good Bro, EVERYONE LOVES EACH OTHER, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, F/M, First Kiss, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Losers club - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Pining, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Senior year, Stan is a Good Bro, The Hammock, Truth or Dare, author doesn’t know how to write apparently, beer pong, drug/alcohol use, richie is a gay anxious mess, richie kisses everyone, richie loves his friends, theyre like 17, timeline is all over the place tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 05:26:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20718830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheredoiship/pseuds/wheredoiship
Summary: Richie has an Issue™️Eddie has Issues™️————aka how long can i pine for my best friend for?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi so i haven’t written fic in like 6 years because it was AWFUL but i love love love Richie and Eddie so I decided to give it another shot 
> 
> tell me what you think pls i want validation

Richie had an issue.

And that’s putting it lightly-Richie had a secret that sat heavy on his chest and made him feel like he was suffocating most of the time. 

And it wasn’t like he didn’t have some of the best friends in the world or anything-he did and he knew that they loved him. But a particularly nasty summer and extremely terrifying clown had ingrained into him that he was, in fact, three things.

One: A Loser with friends he would protect and fight with until his last breath. 

Two: A Trashmouth through and through.

And Three: irrevocably in love with his best friend.

And it’s not like Richie didn’t try to not be disgustingly in love with Eddie Kasprak. He made every yo mama joke in existence and then a few to make Eddie mad shamelessly talked about his (supposed) sexual conquests, and most importantly, never ever said a word to Eddie. It wasn’t like Richie was stupid, you know. He rationalized to himself at the ripe age of thirteen if he told Eddie he would most likely rip apart their friend group and end up like one of those lonely forty year old gay guys with no friends and with only a Pomeranian to keep him company. 

So he would content himself with being Eddies best friend, and that was something he had (almost) come to terms with, and he had no (some) issue with that.

And Richie wouldn’t have had an issue if it weren’t for those goddamn shorts and the goddamn Hammock. 

The start of Richie’s downfall started early September, as Richie sat alone in the hammock in the clubhouse. Beverly sprawled in a chair across from him, half burned cigarette smudged out next to the radio, which she fiddled with as she left her right arm extended, a cup of nails in her hand. Ben, who was currently hanging up more movie posters, occasionally took a few and stuck them into the corner of his mouth as he hammered the papers against the wall.

Mike and Stan had started to talk over the noise of the shitty stereo they had some ten minutes before, something about some research project they needed to complete at the library. As Seniors their teachers had decided to give them all the bigger projects early in the school year before kids stopped showing up to class. 

As seniors in high school, the losers had become even more obnoxious and grew to love each other in more grown up ways. (Richie had definitely used more of a risqué verbage when Ben and Bev announced they had been dating, and had sub-sequentially been smacked so hard he couldn’t breathe. Thanks Bev.)

But they were still as childish as ever, still taking trips to the quarry and to the Aladdin and having sleepovers at each other’s houses. And when it came to most of the Losers, there was no growth when it came to communicating their feelings. Especially when it came to gay underlying romance between best buds.

And Richie had no problem with the gay subtext his friends always were broadcasting when they were together, but he had enough of the constant “almost” (to which Richie admitted may or may not be hypocritical) So Richie had moved his eyes over the comic book in his hands, made a kissy noise and said, “Researching each other’s mouths, that’s for sure. But that means both your moms will be free without you there so I get to score extra good toni-” 

“Beep beep Richie!” Eddie said from above the hatch, not quite coming down the ladder yet.

Richie’s eyes shot over to the ladder, and he swallowed, watching as Eddie climbed down. He hated those shorts. Hated hated hated them. Really, was it so difficult to wear shorts that weren’t so fucking obnoxious and that didn’t have to make Eddie look like a five course fucking meal? (Of course it was, it was Eddie after all)

And Richie was convinced that if he lived inside a video game like Street Fighter, an overhead voice would have shouted “Instant Boner!” and his avatar would be sent down on his knees by one look from an avatar that looked too much like Eddie.

Richie was caught up in his own thoughts as the other Losers resumed their chatter. He put his comic down on his lap and steeled himself for the verbal onslaught about some kind of hygiene deficiency he must have had as Eddie as the shorter teen came closer to the hammock. 

“Richie are you fucking kidding me? We’ve had the clubhouse going on 5 summers, and you still have your shoes on while you’re on here! Do you not know the kinds of fucking dirt that is down here, Richie? Mold grows down here, if you stepped in it now it’s gonna be all over where my fucking head is supposed to go-“ Eddie complained, and as he did he undid Richie’s laces on his shoes and knocked the filthy things to the floor. 

Richie shrugged. “Sorry they’re all wet and dirty- just like your mom was last night.”

Eddie groaned. “Beep fucking beep Richie.”

Richie put his hands above his head, and sighed contentedly. “Now I get to have the hammock all to myself-oof!” The breath was pushed out of Richie as Eddie clambered ontop of him. 

“Yeah as fucking if shit-for-brains,” Eddie huffed, wriggling on top of Richie to get comfortable. And Richie was fine, thanks for asking, despite all the knocking of knees and elbows into ribs and collarbones, and oh yeah, he was totally fine with Eddie’s fucking shorts riding up his fucking ass as he wriggled on top of Richie. 

And Richie didn’t stare, or blush or anything. 

Totally. 

Richie was fucking fine!

Stan snorts at their situation. None of the other Losers were blind after all (that fell to Richie and his obnoxiously thick glasses and incapacity for sharing his feelings) and so when Stan opens up his stupid big mouth which Richie hates and says “Get a room, Kasbrack,” Richie decides right then and there, mouth agape, slightly horny, and on that awful hammock crammed half under Eddie and his awful shorts, that Richie is going to get rid of his problem, damnit.

*

It’s a day later when he decides that he’ll just life his life as a coward again.

He can’t, he can’t be right in the head (a conclusion he had come to long ago) to push himself like this. It had started off how most nights in the empty Tozier basement went-alcohol and pizza rolls and whatever songs played on the radio. And Richie, because he’s the dumbest person in all of Derry if not the whole fucking country, decides that alcohol is the key to completing his mission and wooing Eddie.

But of course then he gets anxious about whether or not Eddie wants to be wooed by him and loudly suggests beer pong to change his shittily anxious monkey brain course of thoughts. 

And so Eddie sets up the cups on the floor, because Richie is too buzzed and anxious to stand upright without losing his footing, and Bev sits next to him. That’s a comfort, Richie thinks, twiddling the ping pong ball between his forefinger and thumb. Beverley will never not be by his side with advice, help, or a joint. 

Richie, Eddie,and Bev face off against Stan, Mike, Bill and Ben. Usually the playing field is evened out by the fact that Beverly can aim with almost 100 percent precision, only to be matched by Ben (who may or may not have practiced to impress Bev). The others? Just loved to drink booze and win something.

Tonight though, something was definitely off. For starters, Beverly never ever missed a shot, nor would she ever batt her eyes at Richie and Eddie and ask them to drink for her. But Richie nodded along anyways, tipping his head back and drank the entirety of the cup in 3 long gulps. When he set his cup down, he might have sworn that Eddie had been staring at his throat. 

And then something else happened that wasn’t normal-Ben’s team actually won. 

Was is because Richie was buzzed off his ass and his eyes kept jumping to Eddies whenever he was about to throw? Possibly. Was it because Eddie felt Richies’s gaze on his neck and he tended up at every one of his turns? Maybe. But Richie had a sneaking suspicion that more was at play here, especially when Bev tugged Richie onto the floor beside her and demanded that they play Truth or Dare.

And Richie, the dumbest motherfucker to walk this planet, nods along with it.

“Ben, truth or dare?” Richie asks, already thrumming with anticipation. Truth or Dare is an all time favorite of his and he really likes watching his friends squirm.

Ben groans. “Truth.” 

“If you had to fuck a Loser or die who would it be? And it can’t be Bev.” Richie asks, leaning back against the ugly orange couch, head almost resting on Eddie’s legs.

“Not you Rich. Sorry to disappoint,” Ben grins, earning a laugh from the curly haired boy. 

“Your loss.”

Ben turns to face Bev. “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth,” Bev says as Richie groans. 

“Pussies, the pair of you. Absolute pussies.”

And it continues like that for a while, until Stan gets his turn to ask. “Trashmouth, dare I presume?”

Richie grins and nods. “As if I’ve never turned down a dare in my life, Stanley.”

Stan levels him with a state that starts to make Richie uncomfortable, and Richie goes to crack a joke when Stan suddenly says, “I dare you to kiss each of us.” Before pointedly looking at Eddie.

And oh, Richie was so, so fucked.

*

Richie had kissed exactly 2 people in his life.

One was his mom.

The other was, of course, Beverly. They were two peas in the same kind of fucked up pod, and Richie had bummed his first cigarette off Bev, and she had sat on Richie’s back porch and smoked with him when he bought his first joint. And the next, and the next. So it seemed like the natural progression of things once Richie was home alone yet another weekend in the middle of their sophomore year that they would be stoned out of their minds once more on the swing on Richie’s porch. 

Richie had passed the joint to Beverly and sighed. She looked at him with glazed eyes and a dopey smile. “What now?” she asked, leaning forward so her elbow rested on her knee and her cheek rested against her fist, looking up at Richie. 

Richie had huffed and tilted his head back to look at the night sky as it sprawled out in front of them. “I am fif-fucking-teen and I love you. I love Mike. I love Bill. I looove Stan even though most days he looks like he can’t stand me, and I love Ben.” He laughed, eyes rolling towards Beverly. 

Beverly grinned. “I love you too Trashmouth. Would most definitely trade you for the world.”

And Richie smiled until he realized and drawled our a long “Heyyyyyyyyyy,” shoving the redhead playfully. 

He pouted then, and sighed. “I love all of you and still no one loves me,” he said, throwing himself across Bev’s lap dramatically, throwing a hand across his forehead. 

And Beverly giggled and leaned down and planted a full mouthed kiss on Richie’s whining mouth. And Richie had laughed, a deep genuine belly laugh, and kissed her back before regaining his upright position. Slowly but surely their giggles evened out until it was just the sound of them breathing into the chilly air.

“You love Eddie?” Bev had asked.

And Richie stuttered for a second before making a sound in his throat that sounded like a question. 

“You said you loved me, and the rest of the losers. But you didn’t say Eddie,” Bev said, eyes scanning Richie’s face intently. 

Richie cleared his throat. “Of course I love Eddie,” he mumbled.

“I guess you just love him separate from the rest of us,” she sighed, before snuggling up against Richie, their joint long past finished.

So in his own basement almost two years later, he turns first and foremost to Beverly. He can’t look at Eddie right now, Eddie has to be the furthest thing from his mind because completing a dare was strictly business. 

Beverly smiles at him and leans closer to him, and he kisses her. Close mouthed, no longer than 10 seconds. He pulls away with a small smile, thinking of the time in his backyard. And as if she read his mind (which Richie would have totally believed if she had said that) she winks and brings her forefinger and thumb to her mouth, miming herself taking a smoke. 

“Sorry Bevvie, I totally and completely ruined all men for you for the rest of time. Ben, no hard feelings man-“ Beverly laughed, interrupting him. 

He looked at Stan. “Do I really have to do all of you?”

Stan smirked. “Is this the Trashmouth backing out of a dare?”

Richie narrowed his eyes then. “Better Pucker up, Stanley Urine,” Richie said as he got up and took Stan’s face in both his hands before kissing him. Just to be a little shit Richie opened up his mouth and licked all over Stan’s mouth, and when Stan pulled away he licked a stripe clean up the middle of his face. He patted the side of Stan’s face twice and let go, and Stan instantly rubbed at his face with his hands.

Eddie yelped, and Richie looked over at him. The younger boy looked absolutely horrified at Richie’s actions, and pulled out a wet wipe and quickly passed it to Stan. Richie’s heart clenched at Eddies concern for his friend, and thought about kissing him (which he then really realized he would actually have to do.) 

Richie kissed Bill next, a very orderly affair. Bill kept his hands in his lap as Richie leaned down and gave him a nod as Richie moved toward Mike. 

Mike gave Richie a warm smile as Richie got on floor level again, on his knees in front of him, which caused a few snickers from the rest of their friends. They too kissed, and Richie patted Mike on the back.

Ben, surprisingly, took Richie by the wrist and pulled the lanky boy to him, causing for a few surprised “Oh?’s” from their friends. Ben put his hand under Richie’s face and pulled him in for a kiss, which, Richie found was slightly more pleasant than the rest of the losers. 

Richie stood back up after Ben released him, and turned around to face Eddie. 

Eddie was sprawled on top of a handful of throw pillows and sat against the ugly orange couch, so Richie dropped to his knees in front of him so they were equal height, earning a whoop and a few low whistles from everyone else.

Richie looked into Eddie’s eyes, and saw the nervousness that resided there. 

“You ready, Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie asked lowly, so none of their friends could hear them. Richie would lose the dare if it meant that Eddie didn’t have to be uncomfortable in front of everyone. 

Eddie kept his eyes glued to Richie’s, and nodded his head slowly. Richie moved closer, his hands ghosting over Eddie’s shoulders, and licked his lips. Eddie let out a tiny gasp, and Richie doesn’t even notice the rest of the Losers traveling upstairs. 

And then, much to Richie’s suprise, Eddie closes his eyes and closes the distance between them.


	2. Chapter 2

Let’s get one thing clear here- Eddie has too many issues. 

For one, his Mom still hadn’t recognized the fact that he was turning 18 this year, not 8. She still coddled him and basically breathed down his neck any time he was home. She hadn’t changed much after Eddie had snapped at her that one Summer when Eddie had snapped at her for giving him fake medicine, still put the red and white pills in his pill case, and definitely still made him feel weak.

On the other hand though, he had some pretty amazing friends. His friends never made him feel weak like his mom and various bullies did. His friends all saw Eddie in the best way possible, and he did the same. Hanging out with the Losers made Eddie feel strong and brave, like he wasn’t the fragile little boy his mom made him out to be. 

In the middle of this spectrum in Eddie’s head where his mom was on one side and the Losers on the far better side, sat Richie.

Eddie had always loved Richie-they were best friends, and everyone loved their best friend. Eddie knew, however, that he didn’t have much of a friendly, brotherly love for Richie. 

See, Richie was the Loser that made Eddie feel the strongest. Richie pokes and prodded and pushed his buttons, sure, but when it came down to it, Richie believed in Eddie, knew that Eddie was smart and strong and easily one of the best people that he knew. 

And for some reason, that made Eddie feel fragile. 

Any time Richie grinned his big goofy grin at him, Eddie felt like the bones in his chest were made out of glass, and that if Richie wanted to, he could break him with as little as a whisper. 

Eddie had hated that at first-how could he not? Feeling weak was something he associated with his mom, and he hated it more than anything. But as months passed and turned into a year, Eddie came to a realization. Richie made him feel fragile, yes, but in a way that made Eddie feel light, like the butterflies in his stomach could lift him away from his house and his mom and her pills- and he could just exist for a minute alone with Richie.

Eddie had come to such a realization all in about an hour the when he broke his arm when they had first gone to find It.

Eddie had thought that he was going to die, all because he was stupid and followed his best friends into a crack house where he was going to be eaten by a fucking clown. 

He was woozy from the pain radiating from his arm, and It had his free hand pressed against his own face, and It opened up it mouth with all It’s fucking teeth, and Eddie sobbed.

I should have never followed them here, Eddie thought. All for stupid fucking Richie Tozier I’m going to die and I’m stupid for following a pretty boy into a scary house and he’s lucky I love him or I never would have come here but now I’m gonna die and oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck-

Richie and Bill slid into the room and Thank Fuck for that, Eddie thought. 

And then Beverly had stabbed the clown through the fucking head, and It turned toward them, and Eddie started yelling again. 

Suddenly there were hands on his face, then, and Richie’s voice cutting through the panicked thoughts in Eddie’s head- “Eddie! Eddie look at me! Don’t look!” 

Eddie turned his face and he realized right then, that if he was in fact going to be dessert for a killer clown, he at wanted nothing more in that moment to tell Richie that he loved him. 

Did he? Well no, seeing as after It went fuck knows where, Richie snapped his broken arm back into place and helped carry him outside (to which Eddie’s pain and adrenaline addled brain supplied that Richie was taking care of him in a good way, unlike his mom ever could) and then Richie lifted him to sit in Ben’s bike basket (again, which made Eddie’s inner self drool a little). 

But at that point, Eddie knew his issues went a little more beyond what they already had been.

At the start of senior year, Eddie had had enough of his issues at this point. He had enough of his mom, enough of bullies, and enough of the gay tension that filled the room whenever he and Richie were together. 

And he really, really wanted Richie to make a move.

So when Stan dares Richie to kiss everyone in the room, Eddie is torn because   
1\. Richie has to kiss everyone and Eddie has to watch  
2\. Everyone knows that they both have it hot for each other   
3\. Eddie is going to get to kiss Richie.

Eddie picks at his hands while Richie kisses each of the losers, not really wanting to look and being too caught up in his own head.

Eddie had never kissed anyone. Ever. And as much as it sent a thrill up his spine at the thought of Richie being his first kiss, he started to panic slightly. 

What if Eddie was an awful kisser? What if he had read his friend wrong lately and he wanted nothing to do with Eddie? Was Richie even gay? Richie made way too many mom jokes to be gay. Even worse, what if Richie made fun of him? Eddie didn’t know if he could stand such a thing, Richie being disgusted at him and making him the butt of some cruel jokes. 

Eddie snapped out of his thoughts as Richie came nearer to where he sprawled on top of some ugly throw pillows, and he sat up as to be eye level with a now kneeling Richie. They locked eyes.

“You ready, Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie asked. 

And for a moment more, Eddie thought about all of the panicked thoughts he had, then relaxed slightly. Richie didn’t have it in him to hurt him, Eddie knew. After all, he was Richie’s Eddie Spaghetti.

He nods, and over his best friends shoulder, he half-watches Beverley and Stan take the others upstairs. He zeroes in on Richie’s mouth as the curly haired boy subconsciously licks his lips, and Eddie is weak in that moment because he can’t breathe, he’s so entranced by the boy in front of him, and he gasps a tiny gasp at the thought that if he played his cards right he could feel that tongue against his own-

Before Richie can lean in and kiss him finally, Eddie closes the short distance between their mouths and finally, finally kisses the Trashmouth he hates and loves so much.

Eddie’s eyes flutter closed as Richie responds in kind, kissing the shorter boy with all the emotion he kept bottled up for years. Eddie grips the front of Richie’s shirt and keens when Richie pulls back for a moment, opening his eyes and pulling deep breaths through his nose.

Eddie knows he’s in a similar state as Richie, whose eyes are blown wide and whose mouth is slightly open and whose cheeks are flushed. Richie moved his hands from where they rested on Eddie’s shoulder to his cheeks and Eddie blushes despite himself.

“Your mom is going to be absolutely devastated,” Richie says. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and pulls Richie close to him by his shirt, their mouths brushing barely. 

“Beep.” Kiss. “Fucking.” Kiss. “Beep.” Kiss. 

Richie groans against his mouth, and Eddie lets out a breathy “Richie” before they’re kissing in full force again.

And this? 

This Eddie has no issue with at all, thank you very much.


End file.
